Everything Sacred
by MissAnnThropic
Summary: postcol fic. Mulder, Scully, and William on the run after the alien invasion has taken place.


Title: Everything Sacred  
Author: MissAnnThropic  
Spoilers: Existence  
Summary: post-col fic. Mulder, Scully, and William on the run after the alien invasion has taken place.  
Disclaimer: I own nasing! Really, I don't. All you see here (that you recognize, anyway) is the creation of someone else. I take no credit.

* * *

The air still smelled of smoke... the gunfights of months ago, the fires, the stench of an entire humanity rising to fight for their lives... all too late. Four months after the take-over, and still the skies smelled of gunpowder, burned flesh, and death... or maybe it was just him. It felt like those desperate days of fighting had seeped into every cell of his body. Even if he'd had a chance to soak in a hot bath, he wouldn't have been able to purge the smell of a whole humanity giving its one last effort of resistance that was destined to fail from the moment the besieged lost took up arms to defend themselves from his skin.

Sometimes, Mulder envied those fallen few who'd gone down fighting... died resisting and never had to live this. Died perhaps thinking 'well, they got me, but maybe there's still a chance... maybe some will make it out.' He could have been content to never live with the scent of charred bodies, imprinted on his brain should there ever someday be a time when the winds finally carried the smell away. In a way, he felt almost as though human kind had been taken elsewhere, and he'd been left behind.

Something stirred near his feet, kicking up dust that for once had nothing to do with the burnings after the day of the invasion. The dust flew and flurried in the wake of a startled rat as he stepped too close to where it lay stock still. Mulder flinched, a part of him knowing that he should give chase and kill the rodent for food, but it was one of those days when his heart just wasn't in it. Those days were frequent... it was hard to keep going when all around there was the evidence of everything once familiar decimated.

Many times it had occurred to him to end this horrid existence himself, but the one thing that kept him from doing it was the same thing that had stopped him from fighting alongside his fellow man months ago when he knew he could do nothing but be killed for the effort. Scully.

Mulder's heart ached to think of her living like this. It wasn't painful so much for him, but to know she lived this too hurt him as no wound ever had before. He always tried to protect her, but he couldn't defend her from this. And he'd tried... he'd tried so hard, but it wasn't enough. He'd failed, and instead of being able to relinquish himself in defeat to the fate of those who tried to resist, he had to wallow in his disgrace and scurry Scully off to safety... but a safety that didn't exist. No place was safe, not anymore.

Mulder sighed raggedly, feeling the leaden weight of his own guilt on his shoulders as he grasped the metal railing to the stairway that would lead him to the entrance doors to the inner corridors of the Strughold Mining Company. It had been a place of ghosts years ago, in a time so innocent even in its cornucopia of conspiracies, and now they lived in the shadows with them.

It was torturous to know that he'd seen this coming, but none of his efforts had been enough. Alien abductions, government syndicate groups, alien viruses... even the alien replacements that had infiltrated the earth en mass only months ago seemed a hundred years away from this place of empty hopes and hollow futures. And the part that killed him was to know that, even here, Scully had followed. She was here, with him, as though he could still do something about it, as if she still had faith. He'd failed her once, and he was victim to her folly in trusting him again. He had nothing left, except Scully, and that he felt he'd stolen as ill-gotten gains. He'd lost the race, but he still stole off with the prize.

But beaten and lost as he was, Scully still needed him. He might be a shamed defeat for it, but he'd look out for her. He might not relish the breath he drew these days, but as much as anything he knew that when he did draw his last, it would be in her benefit. It was only because of her he'd brought himself this far. Mulder was not one to shun the idea of taking his own life, and if she'd not been there to hold him with her unconditional and undeserved love, he would have done it by now.

She might not make the days brighter or the air fresher like she used to for him, but she kept his finger off the trigger. In this dark place they called existence now, it was all anyone could ask for.

With Scully in mind, he almost robotically turned and pursued the scampering vermin, chasing it down quickly and bludgeoning it to death with his bare hands. It wasn't hard to catch... seemed like even the rats were ready to give up.

Mulder vacantly stood again, victim in hand, head cant to one side and flesh torn. Mulder stared down at it, the limp rat in his hands, its blood staining the skin of his fingers. So it had come down to this, dust in the air in his lungs and a beaten, bloody rat in his hands.

Mulder, prey in hand, returned to the stairs, climbing them quickly and going to the chamber doors. He input the locking code, so much ingrained in his brain that he no longer had to think... half the time he'd find himself in the corridors before he even realized he'd reached the door.

The halls of file-drawers sent the echo of his footsteps back upon him like a ghoulish taunt. It sounded so much like other people in there sometimes... always it was just him. The files had been cleaned out. Mulder didn't know who or when, all he knew was that when he and Scully had arrived here to hide, every last file was gone. Mulder didn't care where they were or who took them... none of that mattered anymore. Mysteries no longer made him question, unless to ask of this entire invasion 'why?'.

The light flickered overhead precariously. This place apparently had its own power source somewhere, maybe the designers had had this exact type of situation in mind when they built it. The power was failing, though, and when it did they'd have to think of something to do. These catacombs would be pitch black without artificial light... but they'd cross that bridge when they came to it.

Strange, how they'd stopped planning any farther in the future than a day.

Mulder drew near the depression in the wall where he and Scully had hunkered. As he drew closer, he heard the baby begin to cry.

Mulder's heart actually started beating faster, and he moved quickly toward the depression. If Scully was away, or if she was hurt or asleep, she wouldn't be able to silence the baby.

Mulder reached the depression in time to see her bent over a tattered and folded blanket on the floor. William lay on his back, hands tightly fisted in his frustration.

Scully reached forward, calmly cupping her hand over William's mouth.

Mulder stopped, aching once again to see her have to do that. At first when they got here, she'd tried so hard to comfort and quiet William with gentle, tender means. She coddled him lovingly, speaking as calmly as she could... but it wasn't fast enough. He would cry too long, and someone could hear the piercing howl of a baby even from the surface.

So she'd relented to covering his mouth to mute his cries, and at first, as she did it, she cried too. Mulder wanted to do something to help, but there was only one way to get him quiet in enough time to save all their lives, and Scully knew that as well as he did. To keep William alive, she had to ignore every motherly instinct she had and take such drastic measures. She never hurt him, but soon enough he wouldn't have enough air to expend effort on crying, and he'd get quiet. Immediately after, Scully would pick him up, tend to him, comfort him... but it never stopped her from hating what she had to do.

William had learned quickly, and only moments after he felt his mother's hand cover his mouth, he got quiet and waited.

Scully, shoulders slumped, reached forward and picked up him, checking his makeshift diaper, offering him a breast for feeding, eventually settling down to sit with him in her lap when it became clear he'd only wanted human contact.

Mulder approached slowly, "Is he okay?"

Scully looked up at him, the pain of her actions moments ago still burning in her eyes. Soot streaked her left cheek, her hair now past her shoulders and tangled. Still, her eyes flashed a hint of the same old affection and trust in Mulder as he neared. How she could love him still, in a time like this, he didn't know. Sure, he still loved her, but that was different... she was so much more than him, and she hadn't failed them all like he had.

Scully nodded slowly, voice low in that beaten timbre as she answered, "Just lonely."

Mulder dropped his rat on the ground, noting Scully's disinterested glance at it, then she handed William up to Mulder when he wiped his bloody hands on his pants and extended his hands for the baby.

William tucked his feet, burbling at Mulder when brought to his chest. Mulder smirked. Only two things left in the world could ever get him to even almost smile, and that was Scully and his son. William was so young, he had no idea what had happened to the world in his short life... the bulk of his experience was this secluded life with Mulder and Scully, and they both loved him dearly. As twisted as it sounded, as far as he knew, the world was just and kind.

Mulder dipped his head, resting his cheek against William's forehead. There wasn't any baby powder or formula, but just the same William had his own unique baby-smell to him.

William blew a spit bubble, hand reaching up and almost slapping Mulder in the mouth.

Mulder pulled back and looked down at his son. Eyes just like his mother's... only these eyes still believed in hope and life... this baby was not yet beaten, even though he in truth was. His soft head of hair was dishwater blonde, everyday it seemed growing a little darker, browner. When he... if he grew up, he'd have a brunette mop like Mulder's. His lips were Mulder's too, but the nose something of a cross between the two. Mulder planted a kiss on William's nose, managing a smile for him which the baby tried to mimic.

Scully wrapped her arms around her thin clothing, warding off the cold. She'd lost a lot of weight in the last few months, everything her body produced going to her milk to feed William. The tunnels were cold, that subterranean chill sharp in the air. A matter of weeks before the invasion was not the time to become a new mother, but that couldn't be helped now.

Mulder moved to the end of the wall depression where they kept their collection of blankets and cloths that served as a bed, lowering himself with William carefully, and beckoning Scully, "come here," even as she startled crawling over toward him when she saw him settling down.

He'd barely gotten himself situated when Scully slipped under his free arm and snuggled against his body like a cat looking for a place to nap. Her body shivered against him and her arms closed around his waist to draw him closer. Mulder wrapped his free arm around her, holding her close to his body heat, while with the other he held William against his chest.

Scully shuddered again, then her trembles ebbed as Mulder's body started to warm her. William gummed on his own fist, lying flat against Mulder's chest, other hand opening and closing around a fistful of Mulder's chest hair that peeked through his torn shirt. An odd baby cooing sound grumbled from his throat, and he seemed to almost constrict his body tighter around Mulder's.

Mulder tucked William higher on him, also pulling Scully in closer. A man with something to protect but no means of defense. It was a sick feeling to know that, if they came for them now, there was little he could do to stop them... or to protect his family.

Scully asked huskily, "Did you see anyone?"

Mulder spent a great deal of his time on better days (weather-wise and psychologically) outside on the top of the mountain, looking and watching. Either for other survivors, or for the replacements. It was always easy to tell them apart... no one else had anything close to clean clothes. Not that they'd ever seen another survivor, but Mulder had long ago decided he'd not even risk being seen by anyone who looked clean. It was awful that to be clean meant someone was part of the invasion force.

Mulder sighed slowly, "No..." not sure whether he was relieved or disappointed. Could they be the only ones left?

They were certainly nearly the only ones left that weren't replacements. Mulder had Scully to thank for that. When Mulder returned from the dead, infected with the virus that would turn him into a replacement, he would have laughed at the irony to know that the one time he'd been subjected to similar tests would be what saved his life. When he'd been inoculated with the experimental vaccine in Tunguska, Russia, it had destroyed the damaged strain, but it had also alerted his immune system. Not enough to stop it from happening, but enough to loosen the virus's hold on him when he was returned. Without the Tunguska serum, he would have been one of the replacements too, but his body was informed enough to fight until Scully could figure out the virus and begin treating him. He'd survived the procedure, though, and now he was immune.

Scully was too. Much the same way he had been. When he'd given her the revised vaccine for the black oil in Antarctica, it had given her enough of a defense to last until William came along.

William, ironically, was the only baby that ever could be and was born naturally immune to the alien virus in all of its currently known forms. Mulder's genes (contributing father) had been coded with his already existing immunity to the first stage of the black oil, Scully's genes (contributing mother) coded for the immunity to the second stage... and William's chromosomes had configured it into a complete and working immunity to the black oil and any form it took.

William's genetic immunity had passed from baby to mother, and Scully had become as immune as her son the moment she began to carry him as more than a beginning embryo.

One could almost believe in fate when considering all the chance occurrences that would have had to happen for Mulder to be infected and given a vaccine, Scully infected and given a vaccine, and then those two rare cases come together to have a baby. It was a one in countless billions chance, but here they were, maybe the only immune human beings on the face of the earth.

But to live, like this, was a mixed blessing.

But it explained why they'd been after Scully's baby before he'd even been born. Scully's history, what had happened her to, meant that for her to pregnant something must have been done. They thought her unborn was something like a successful experiment, but they didn't recognize him for the success he really was. They had been expecting something less than human, so when William was born perfectly normal by all outward appearances they'd left him alone. Little did they know what he really was... an inborn genetic immune to their forces.

If they'd known what he really was, William would not have lived to see beyond that dirty shack in Georgia.

But what could be done with an immunity if they were the last alive that hadn't been replaced? But Scully herself had told him there had to be others, somewhere. The groups responsible for what happened to them had been experimenting on vaccines and the black oil that had saved her and Mulder's lives for fifty years... someone else had to have survived. It was just a matter now of laying low, waiting... praying that the replacements would use this planet for whatever plans they might have and leave. At least leave long enough for those few surviving immunes to come together and try to rebuild. Trying to rebuild an entire civilization on a population of tortured test subjects... because anyone immune with the exception of William WAS tested on.

At least, that's what Scully said and the belief she clung to. Mulder let her have it, but he didn't share it. He couldn't find himself ever being near that positive or hopeful... not anymore, not ever again.

Scully dropped her chin, burying her face in Mulder's warmth as she muttered sadly, "Maybe... there isn't anyone... you may have been right."

Mulder felt fear clutch him. Scully had been able to believe in that when she couldn't anything else, that there were others and they could gather together someday. She had been so certain, so focused when she knew she had to live long enough to meet the others, to find them. If she was losing that now, it may mean that he was losing her.

If she lost that ideology didn't mean much to him, but to lose her was unthinkable. He couldn't have Scully give up on him, she'd been his light in the blackness, the only thing HE could believe in. If she didn't hold him back, that trigger finger was apt to slip. Long for it though he might at times, he had responsibilities, to Scully and to William. Tenuous as their structure of faith was, the thin threads there were all that held them together... kept them sane.

"No, Scully... what you said makes sense. We can't be the only ones... there were too many experimented on like us not to be others... they have to be out there."

Scully frowned, "You never believed that, and even if some survived the replacement virus, they might not have survived the attack. We wouldn't have if you hadn't seen it coming and brought us here."

Mulder closed his eyes, mind screaming 'don't make me out to be any kind of hero, it was the cowardly flee of someone who knew he'd lost... I didn't save you... if I had none of this would have happened.' He bit his lip in memory... the skies burning at night and black in the day with smoke, the popping of distant gunfire slowly dying down as any resistance was vanquished, the strewn bodies of burned human corpses.

Scully took her top hand away from Mulder's body, lifting it up to touch the back of William's head. Her dirty hands, fingernails rimmed with black grim underneath, threaded lovingly although sadly through his fine hair. William, at some point, had started to doze off. His strong gumming of his own hand had stopped, and his other hand now lay loose and open against Mulder's chest.

Scully sighed faintly, shaking her head, "Maybe there's nothing left."

Mulder, for all the times he agreed with that, could not tell her. That is, if he wanted her to keep on trying, to keep going for what little she did have left. But he couldn't lie to her either. He respected her and loved her too much to lie to her.

So he remained quiet, resting his chin on the top of Scully's head and rubbing his hand up and down her arm affectionately. She knew what his silence meant, but she also understood the meaning of his caress. She would go on, even when she didn't want to, as long as Mulder and William were with her. She had no choice but to, she couldn't do anything else as long as she had the two boys in her life... but her pessimism was a sign that the moment she lost them both, she'd take her life.

It was a sick irony to know that these two that had fought off death so many times together in the past were now at the point where they knew they would embrace should the little they had be taken away. To trade one hell for another seemed of little import now... living like this was almost as bad as dying.

Mulder hugged Scully closer, suddenly furious. As long as he had her, as long as she was with him, he'd still have a fiery vitality for life. Nothing would break his spirit if she was near, and though it might be battered, kicked around, and buried under all the destruction around them, it would be there as long as she was. Until his last possible second he would love her, and knowing that gave him a new vigor for life, as temporarily as it might last.

"I'll go out to the east town tomorrow... see if there's anything left."

Scully's head shot up, looking at him. There was the return of a fire in her eyes too, giving him a moment of reprieve to know she still had a flame for life too... in her concern for him.

Scully frowned, worried, "Mulder... that's too dangerous."

Mulder shook his head, "I've been going outside everyday for months and I've never seen anything."

Scully shook her head, sitting up, "The woods are one thing, going to a town is another... don't go."

Mulder placed his now free hand on William's back, reassured by the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing, "Scully... we've been here for months with no sign of anyone. The power here is going to fail soon, and we're not going to find anyone else who survived if we keep hiding. We're going to have to take a chance some time if we want to get out of this... there's nothing else we can do."

Scully grimaced, looking from Mulder to William, fear encroaching on her features as she whispered, "I'm afraid..."

Mulder eased himself up into a more upright sitting position, William still close against his body, "I know... but we can't hide forever... we need to find the others."

Scully became angry, whispering harshly, "YOU don't believe there are any others."

Mulder looked in her eyes earnestly, "But I believe in you. If you've been able to be so sure all this time until just now that there is, then there has to be. I trust your judgment on this one."

Scully looked away, eyes falling on the dead rat Mulder had scrounged up for food. It gave her pause, and a long silence ensued. It struck Mulder just how dark and cold this little hole in the wall was. Sometimes it was almost home, but now it was a hollow depression of rock. Ageless, heartless... and feeling every bit as massive as it was.

Scully looked down at her lap, "All right..." then up at Mulder, "we'll all go."

Mulder startled. "Scully... you should stay behind with William... until I make sure it's clear."

Scully frowned, looking at William, then sighing in frustration, "We can't LIVE like this, Mulder. William hasn't been out of these damn tunnels in months... you're right... we need to get out. But we go together."

Mulder held William tighter to him, afraid, "Scully... I'll come right back for you, just give me a few minutes to make sure it's safe."

Scully dropped her head, hand touching his knee almost as though to make sure he was still there with her when she wasn't looking at him, "It's never going to be safe, Mulder, and you can't help that. It's not your fault, but it's still true. You can't always be the hero... I know you think you can save the world, but you're just one man."

Mulder didn't know what to say. It HAD been up to him to save the world! He'd been the one with all the information, all the knowledge in his hands, if only he'd been able to find a way to get people to listen. There had to be something he hadn't tried that would have worked, but he'd lost it... and the invasion happened as he stood back helpless.

Scully scooted closer to him, "I need you, Mulder. I can't let you walk into every dark place first, I can't live with that. If something happens... it may as well happen to us both," and her eyes looked forlornly and in defeat at William, knowing his fate was addressed in that statement too.

But it was true. If something happened to Mulder when he was scouting ahead, looking out for her, Scully wouldn't be able to handle it. The small family unit they made up had become all they had and knew in the last months. It was so little to begin with... so impossible to lose. And did he really think she could fend for herself AND the baby if he was killed? She was strong, yes, but this was extreme circumstances.

Mulder dropped his gaze, "All right... we'll all go... tomorrow."

Scully seemed only marginally relieved, but how grateful could one be after insisting upon walking into the lion's den and getting permission to do so?

Mulder looked to the floor at the dead rat, not even hungry anymore as he asked, "Should we eat?"

Scully blanched slightly as she looked again at the dead rat, voice shaking, "I can't eat another rat."

Mulder nodded, patting the dirty old rags and blankets underneath him, "We should get some sleep, then."

Scully crawled on to the blankets beside Mulder, who had laid William down between them. Scully rested her hand over William's back, eyes loving as she watched her baby sleep. Mulder lay on the other side of William, watching her watch the baby.

Mulder reached toward her, brushing the mess of red hair from her cheek as often as he'd done in old times.

Scully looked up at him, and as always happened in these fleeting moments before bed when they laid together to forget the concerns of the day, she looked almost like her old self. Her eyes shone and she managed a smile, which Mulder could return. He practically lived for these moments before sleep, when he could look on her with love and see it reflected back, for once the worries of the world they lived in forgotten.

Mulder touched her face again, resting his fingers on her cheekbone and thumb brushing the corner of her mouth. He blinked lazily, mouthing softly, "I love you."

Scully turned her head into Mulder's hand, bringing his palm directly over her mouth. She kissed his hand, turning back to look at him and mouthing in return, "I love you, too."

Mulder looked down at William, who was sleeping soundly tucked between the body warmths of his parents. Mulder bent down to plant a good-night kiss on the top of William's head, letting his hand fall to the dip in Scully's waist and rest there as he fell to sleep.

* * *

Mulder woke early and moved with quiet stealth through the depression. He holstered his gun, with its precious two bullets left in the clip. He tiptoed over to his sleeping family, careful not to stir them.

Mulder knelt beside them a moment, watching them both sleep. Then he kissed his fingers and placed them against William's cheek... and he reached down to Scully, hand almost touching her but hovering centimeters above lest he wake her. He studied her a long moment, then stood and left quietly.

She would understand why he disregarded their agreement and scouted ahead. He just couldn't bare the idea of walking blindly with her into god knows what. Not when something could happen to her.

* * *

The town was deserted, buildings thick in dust, cars parked and plant matter growing up around their tires where they'd sat for months. It was like everything they'd seen on their way to the Strughold Mining Company... even the bodies.

Bodies lay scattered about the street. Burned corpses, some not burned but merely left to rot. Wildlife had made quick work of the uncooked bodies... bloodstains trailed in various directions away from scavenged bodies, bones in disarray and no longer arranged together to make a human being.

Mulder walked among them, almost resilient to the faces of charred flesh. He'd seen so many in so little time. He'd seen the blackened features of people he'd once known... the Lone Gunmen had been scorched and cooked... Mulder wouldn't even have recognized them if it hadn't been for the melted remains of Langley's glasses. Months ago now and miles away.

Mulder's steps stirred grass and dirt that had not been touched by human contact in long months.

Mulder turned in a circle, taking in the scene of the carnage in its entirety. He caught sight of another burned body... a woman from the size of it. Not sure why, the image formed a lump in his throat, and he slowly stepped toward the charred female form.

He drew near and wanted to vomit. The woman, and it indeed was, had her burned black arms wrapped around the black form of her baby. An infant of soot and blackened flesh, small face disfigured by the heat and the pain of its final moments.

Mulder's knees gave way under him and he dropped to the ground before the mother and child. The baby was so young, and the woman so slight and slim... god, these two could be Scully and William. The likeness in his mind made him nauseous, and for the first time he felt tears form. Through everything, he'd had a hard, mechanical mask on to protect himself from the reality of what was happening. He could handle everything as though he were a robot.

This... the burned woman and her baby... it was too much for his stoic facade. His protective walls cracked, and all he could see were Scully and William burned and curled together in their death throes like the two in front of him now.

A sound came forth from somewhere very near behind him, and instantly he stood and spun around, heart hammering and eyes blinking fiercely to clear them of the tears that blurred his vision. He drew his gun, finger quickly finding the trigger and only just holding back from squeezing.

He turned on his approacher, hoping to see a coyote or feral dog looking for a free meal.

His heart sickened instead to see the face of Walter Skinner.

Because Skinner had been replaced. The cold, neutral eyes that regarded him now reminded him so harshly of the stranger that looked out at him from this former face of a friend.

The alien replacement Skinner didn't so much as blink, hard eyes focused on his task. Search and destroy.

Mulder shifted, ready to run for his life in the opposite direction from Scully and the baby. He could at least lead them away, and hopefully double back and find them again.

But the moment he glanced in the direction of his intended path of escape, he knew he was fated to not make it out of this predicament. Two more alien replacements stood at his right flank, covering him with that same cool, hostile stare.

Replacement Skinner asked flatly, "Where is she?"

Mulder shot a look at the face of his old friend, now mortal enemy, spitting hotly, "Who?"

The replacement said flatly, "Your partner and the child."

Mulder felt his heart skip and stop, then his eyes fell on the burned mother and child at his feet.

He swallowed heavily, not meeting the replacement's eyes as he uttered, "That's... them," and looking again at the deceased mother and child. Maybe she would have found some solace to know that she may have saved another baby in the death of her and hers.

The replacement Skinner looked nonchalantly at the indicated corpses, no reaction reading on his face, then looked back at Mulder.

Mulder looked up, meeting Skinner's eyes, studying the unfamiliar entity that stood there. He felt that creeping acceptance of finality come to him... settling over him as another hidden replacement emerged from nowhere behind him.

Mulder took a slow breath, eyes flitting over to the encircling alien replacements, then to Skinner. The replacement of the assistant director began moving toward Mulder.

Mulder's hand closed on his gun, and he fought every instinct and urge he had to not look up in the direction of the mountain vault he'd left Scully and William in. He couldn't risk giving these demons even the slightest clue that Scully and their son might be alive and elsewhere. Hopefully they would hear the shot and know it was a warning... and more than that.

Mulder looked quickly at the replacement Skinner who was closing on him, as well as his three companions. They would have him in moments, and either way his fate would be sealed. He couldn't risk them torturing the truth of Scully and the baby from him.

Mulder brought the gun barrel to his temple, feeling no fear, instead in the split second as his finger closed around the trigger he had his own moment of soaring hope, 'maybe she'll hear it and get out of there in time... save herself and the baby, find the others and make it.'

Then he fired.

END


End file.
